Pigeon Prince
by dumbdumpbadumpa
Summary: Prussia is a pigeon who is mostly interested in wearing bagels and talking to bagel sellers, but he develops dangerous feelings for a cute guy with a bag of Cheetos. Meanwhile, Romano is interested in some local guy with a pretty singing voice. They both long for a change, but how does a pigeon woo a human? They just have to ask nicely. HIATUS Sorry.
1. There's Pigeons Now In Union Square

It's not much like Frog Prince at all... _This_ will set the mood : /watch?v=0Q8lcPACNoI

I used Prussia's nyo! and neko! design because it's very cool.

Pigeons use nicknames : Prussian (East) is Prussia, French is France, etc., and South is Romano, but he's not in the first chapter.

Lastly, side pairings in order of intensity : FrUK, Amecan, Rochu.

* * *

"Coo, coo." Purred a cute little pigeon, waddling over the balcony of an apartment which housed a cute little couple that sometimes fed him sachertorte. The pigeon had a gnarly scar over his eye and a bluish shine on the side of head, a Prussian blueish shine, if you ask him. He stood on a black rubber mat and cooed at the sliding glass door where someone was supposed to emerge and give him food.

But there was nobody there who could hear his little pigeon noises, it was 5am and they were asleep. It was always a slim chance, any time of day, but he enjoyed their company when they came out. He laughed, twitched, and sat down. "Hey Ivan." He sighed. "Get over here you greedy gull."

A pigeon's voice does not travel far at all, especially when it was only a sigh, so by the time Ivan heard him, Prussian was napping.

"Hey!" honked Ivan, striding up to Prussian in a threatening yet seductive strut. Gulls always walk like they invented sex appeal, even Ivan, and it bugged Prussian a lot. Ivan had no right to move like that! "I did not come inland just for you to snooze, mine. I don't have much of my time to give to the likes of you, small pigeon mine."

"Drop the accent, Ivan, everyone knows you're not Australian. Do you have the napkin?"

"Yes, here." Ivan manifested a napkin with a translucent grease stain from under his wing, and it floated down at his red feet. "Is that it?"

"Do you have any news or dollars? Do you know where South is?"

"All three for most of a bagel or I walk."

"Wow. Over priced much? Fine. Give me the dollar and I'll drop it off here after breakfast."

"Alright, little pigeon." Ivan gave him a bank note and a news article and said that he saw South over there somewhere and then Prussian grabbed them all and flew off before Ivan and his showgirl legs could.

He flew over white topped businesses and past sky scrapers with windows that reflected the sky.

To think! A whole bagel just for South and a journal entry. Old Ivan was practically running a mafia with the way he bullied poor Prussian.

Lowering to follow a street, he coasted on the exhaust of taxicabs and S.U.V.s going past green treelings, walkers roaming the streets, and fire hydrants.

"Hey East!" called the French pigeon from his perch on a thin black fence around a cafe that Prussian didn't care about. With a clumsy flutter, Prussian joined him. It was hard to land with only one eye, but Prussian had been doing it for a while now and felt proud of himself for it.

"Hey, French. How's it going."

"Pretty well." Cooed French. "Do you see that woman walking across the street? I think she likes me."

Prussian saw a crowd of people in coats on their way to work, but no specific woman. "What did she give you?" It wasn't really about love with pigeons-except to South-just food. Sometimes, though, it could be an odd bond, a spirit-sibling. They were fun to listen to when they gossiped and spoke to pigeons like they could understand English, because pigeons _could_ do so profitiently despite not being able to speak it.

"Look." French showed Prussian a chunk of an oatmeal cookie. "I'll give it to you if you can show me to English."

"What, I'm not good enough for you?" Prussian couldn't understand why French liked English so much, but it was like they were pigeon married. He didn't even think French understood it himself, from the way he sighed. Pigeon romance was much drier than human romance, in Prussian's opinion.

"You know how it is…" French twitched.

"No, actually I don't." lied Prussian. "But yeah, I think I saw him on my way out. You seen South?"

"He is in the hotel with the street fair. Here, let's share the cookie, and then you can take me to the tourist plaza." Said French, picking up the cookie again.

"Totally, totally. Hey, how'd you know he was at the tourist plaza?"

"He told me that he likes getting first-breakfast there because he 'admires' the stairs and the statue. Isn't he so posh? Pigeons don't care about architecture."

"Haha yeah. Well, I mean, I've always been fond of hotels with windows that won't shut or open wider than a gull." No one could ever tell a pigeon he wasn't wanted in a hotel that clearly wanted them. Unless that person had a… a broom. The kind that once in a million could ruin someone's eye on the way out. Now Prussian got 'awww look at that lil' pirate pigeon let's feed him!' from humans, and he could make up stories that made more sense than a broom, for pigeons. Like a cat fight or a bicycle fight. And all he'd lost was an eye, he was fighting a Labrador and came out on top. Like a true Prussian pigeon.

"Oh yes, and…" French paused to think of something else that pigeons liked about buildings. So did Prussian, but the two of them couldn't think of anything other than eating the cookie. "Pigeons don't care about architecture."

"I wonder why people care?"

"How do we _know_ people care?"

"How do we know anything about people?"

French nodded. "True." He cooed.

"Why do you think English cares?"

"Trying to out human me. I'm twice as cultured as him, look at this cookie. I picked it out specifically so it would give us a little buzz for the rest of our day."

"Meal planning… That sounds really gay."

"You'll thank me later when you have to make a decision that no pigeon should have to make. Like where to get lunch." Said French with his feathery chin in the air. "I bet English's sleeping in a bush, still, nibbling on a bagel, like an old bag behind the times."

"Bagels are the shit."

"They are pretty good…"

"Bagels are the shit. Whoever made up bagels should be reborn as a pigeon so I can think him." Prussian stretched out his wings and French joined him as they few over the streets towards Union Square.

"So, how's Mother been?" asked French

"Oh, she's fine. I haven't visited her in a while."

"M'eigther." Muttered French. Both boasted to be Mother's boys but they never had much to say about Her.

"I'm just glad we're the species of pigeon with an asexually reproducing god figure. Imagine if we couldn't be gay anymore."

"Nothing would be regulated and you would die."

"Yeah. Only gay pigeons die, obviously." Said Prussian sarcasticly.

"No it's true, only monosexuals die. Rest in peace while I become an eternal ghost."

"Um." Said Prussia.

"Nevermind, I made it up." French had let a breeze carry him into left field and then returned to Prussian with a few wingbeats.

"There he is." Said Prussian as they landed on a retaining wall with long leafed plants on its corners. English was waddling around on the grass terrace a step above them with his head bobbing like a pigeon and his wings folded in a gentlemanly manner behind his back, looking like he was patrolling his front yard. Pigeons didn't have front yards, the whole city was their front yard. "English is such an uptight pidove."

French peeped in agreement. "One day, my _à l'aise_ personality will balance out his assholeness."

"Good luck." Said Prussian.

"Good luck with South." Said French, as he started trotting towards English.

"I hope South has had second breakfast already." Said Prussian. Sometimes, South was hard to deal with. Usually, though, he was Prussia's best pigeon friend. "See ya."

"I'll stay around here."

* * *

Next Chapter TOMORROW - Prussia visits his dear spirit-brother...


	2. He's Standing In his Uniform

Prussian flew over his city and the sun was starting to glare at him as it peaked from in between the an office building and a hotel. During his morning commute, his mind started wondering past the pleasant smell of briny air and into himself and his small part in the community. If South hadn't had his second breakfast, he'd probably act like an ass, and Prussian didn't want to deal with him in such a state, because he was already having a funny day. Without Elizabeth to talk feelings with and then get called names, his wings were weighed down by his very few failures, too few to even bother naming. He longed to reify the weight, and decided to give South more time to get second breakfast while Prussian got second breakfast for himself. And Ivan too, if he must… Ugh. On his way to get Ivan's second breakfast, Prussian checked to make sure he still had his green dollar.  
Prussian of course knew that humans exchanged the green paper for material possessions, but it was hard to pay tourists back for their food if they all seemed to think a pigeon had always meant to just steal it. So, pigeons adopted that. They did steal from humans. Even if a human put his hand out hoping for fair treatment, a pigeon would keep his paper to give to his spirit-brother or trade to another bird.  
It was very hard to communicate to Ludwig, Prussian's spirit-brother, that with the green paper he had, he wished to fairly purchase one of the sesame bagels under the cold force-field of glass. At least, it was at first, until Prussian figured to just coo at him and then put the green paper in a jar labeled T-I-P-S, which had more green paper. Humans only did that after they got their bagels, but maybe pigeons were supposed to do it backwards.

* * *

Ludwig had looked at Prussian with a bored face the first time. "Why can't you pigeons get the message?" He'd asked, and then went to get the broom to beat his spirit-brother with and blind him completely.  
"Wait." Prussian had said, dropping his green paper deliberately into the TIPS jar.  
Ludwig's face went befuddled like an owl, and then became incredulous gawk. A pigeon had just tipped him $20 in exchange for not getting scared out. Somewhere in Ludwig's face, maybe his eyes, it was clear that he wouldn't have meant to take an eye, just to evict him; in fact he'd probably worry about a half blind pigeon all day. Even a bruise would make him feel guilty, and so he always begged pigeons to understand their place on the ladder of the world.  
"Um."  
Prussia hopped on the curved glass-force-field and pecked at the sesame bagel once, and then slid down and used his wings to help him hop back to the periwinkle counter. It was almost as though the force field was designed so people couldn't sit on it - what a human manner it was to make things like stop-signs and condoms and curvatures - how was anything supposed to happen if it always had an invention to deter it?  
"You… You're…" said Ludwig. Then he took Prussian's money, paid for the bagel out of his wallet - maybe having a twenty in the tip jar was abnormal, but twenty-dollar bills were the most commonly lost, so pigeons dropped them for everything, the way some humans dropped plastic cards - and then got a crinkly tissue to get the bagel so the pigeon wouldn't feel like Ludwig had germed up his food, a habit Ludwig had for all customers, big or small.  
Prussian cooed gratefully; he was honestly as surprised as Ludwig was that the pair had been able to perform this transaction, and stuck the bagel around his neck after eating a big enough addition to the empty part in the middle. That was second breakfast, it was usually a small one, so was third and forth, fifth was bigger, sixth was usually just some crumbs, and seventh was taken at sunset to remember how Pigeon Mother had made California in six days and ate on the seventh. First? It was the joy of sleeping in.  
Bagels - a pigeon had to either wear them or share them; pigeons don't have hands. Prussian picked a piece of the wonderful bread under his chin and smiled at his brother. He was so giving and quick at charades and tall, he'd gotten so tall. Prussian twitched and looked out the window as a piece of proud dust landed in his eye and made him cry proud tears. His brother.  
"Uh, so, where did you get twenty dollars from?" said brother, talking to him because the store was as quiet as a hotel lobby at 4am.  
"I found it." Prussian had always wondered if humans always had green in their pockets, or maybe it was in their feathers or maybe they asked their mom for it? He couldn't ask a question though, lest Ludwig say something like "yeah." Humans didn't seem understand English when pigeons spoke it. But they always seemed like that a vague idea, and were never embarrassed about being so incompetent, nor did they ever ask a pigeon to slow down or be clearer. Too lazy to ask? No pigeon was willing to publish a study on that, humans were too much fun to degrade with science.  
"I bet you really know how to manipulate tourists." Chuckled Ludwig.  
"Hell yeah."  
"What's wrong with your eye, lil' buddy?"  
Prussia giggled at him despite being a giant pimped out pigeon with grey wings that shone like justice and eyes that burn like the setting sun. "I lost it fighting a scurvy sewer rat! See, I was trying to visit my Pigeon Mother for a divine blessing and a kiss on the cheek, when a giant fucking rat popped out and told me to get lost. But I wouldn't leave my dear Mother alone for one more day, so I flew on the rat. He hardly saw what was coming, but he ended up laying a perfect scratch right on me by chance. So I pecked out his eyes."  
"Wow. What a fight that must have been."  
"Hell yeah! I'm like a war hero. Think of me on Veteran's Day, eh Blondie?"  
"Of course, of course. What's it like being free?"  
"Pretty darn sweet."  
"Must be hard, though. Must get cold…"  
"Nah, we all sleep in a big doggy pile. See, I've got this friend named South,"  
"I bet you'd have tons of stories if you spoke English."  
"Yeah…" Prussian spoke English just fine, thank-you very much little brother. He'd picked up every language in this city just from his longing to gossip, he could even speak to him in German, but he'd just answer in English out of habit, like the plastic, which was on the counter at Prussian's toes. "Are your eyes always that sparkly?"  
"I'm just so surprised you tipped me with a twenty dollar bill. Do all pigeons have bright red eyes up close?"  
"I don't know. Maybe if you didn't grab a broom every time you see us, you would be able to collect data."  
"Well, I better get back to work before someone sees me talking to you."  
"Heh, yeah, 'cuz it's so weird to talk to your pigeon-brother..."  
"Have a good life. (Come back if you want to buy more, I guess.)"  
So, Prussian did. Often.

* * *

This morning, Prussian skittered in as someone held the door for him and someone else. Thanking the people, he bounced up to the glass, balancing with his heart and ankles and his neck feathers subtly bristling in his effort to appear like after all these months, he could stand on the force field. He was a cool guy, a rad stuntman, a truly awesome pigeon. Ludwig looked at him and smiled, working on a beurre-jambon while lending him an ear.  
"Hey Ludwig, I need a bagel, but it's not for me, it's for my Russian mail order bride." Prussian twitched a wink and set the money over a poppy-seed bagel, almost falling. No, that would be weird. He moved it to a licorice seed bagel. But whoever heard of that? Licorice seed? He just wanted to play a prank, not make Ivan angry. A plain. Haha! Boring bagel.  
"Good morning, little buddy. Can't you make up your mind?" Ludwig started making the trade for the twenty dollars. "Is it for a picky pigeoness?"  
Prussian turned his head completely away. "Can't you take a joke in the morning? Have you had your steaming-black-drink yet?"  
"No? Then who's it for? Trying to mollify a mafia boss?"  
"See, there you are. I know how you humans work, you drink your brew-latte-venti drug and suddenly you've got oatmeal in your brain… It's like you use your oats to actually understand me. We're really bonded. Real bros." Prussian sighed happily, smelling the licorice seed and deciding maybe next time he would ask Ludwig how it was.  
"Well… Make sure you feed yourself, okay? You don't have to pay me $20 every time you need a bagel, they're only $1.75." Ludwig was inviting Prussian to come in later free of charge, setting the bagel on the counter, where Prussian hopped to hallow it out..  
"Don't you offer change again, Ludwig, you know I can't carry so many bills. Just give me one. I gave you one."  
"Fine, fine. Alright little buddy."  
"Also, that's the gayest name I've ever been called, next to Mr. Pigeon and Pillaging Pigeon."  
"You say that a lot. Maybe you need some new comebacks."  
"How's this : Don't get sassy about nicknames with me, young man."  
"Heh heh," Said Ludwig; he never actually laughed at him, because they weren't on the same branch on the tree of life, but they were pretty close. Ludwig must have a spot-on imagination to be able to banter with Prussian like this. "Uh, heh," He looked up from his conversation with Prussian to meet a customer in the eye. He looked at Prussian, sitting on the bagel, and back at the customer. How rude it would be to throw the bagel away and kick Prussian gently out of the store.

* * *

Every Friday


	3. Looking Out From A Hotel Room

What do you mean I'm a day late?

* * *

"Wow, Ludwig. Just when I thought we had something special you throw my bagel away and kick me gently out of the store!" sighed Prussian, scuttling around the outside seating area where Ludwig had carried him too in cupped hands. "Wow. Wow. I'll be back for you on your break, Mister. I'll be back,"  
"Hey. Sorry." Ludwig stuck his hand out the door and dropped a bagel next to him.  
"Oh, it's okay. But I'm still coming back to teach you a lesson."  
"Really sorry, little buddy."  
Prussian twitched at him and put the bagel around his neck and waddled off. With the right angle and speed, he could probably get in the air with this around his neck. Before Ivan, Prussian would finally get to speak with South. Ludwig was a pretty cool guy but the species gap was a bit tiring.

* * *

He got enough air under his wings and then caught a draft and made his way over to South's hotel, looking into the windows as the wind carried him slowly North to the longside. "South!"  
"Here East! Three up." cooed South.  
Prussian flew up through the gap in the window, dropped the bagel next to South, and flopped onto the dirty hotel carpet. It was hard to fly with an entire bagel around one's body.  
"South, I'm having a manly crisis." Cooed Prussian quietly as he stood and folded his wings, twitching as South took a peck of the bagel.  
"What's wrong? Your spirit-brother keeps piling too many potatoes on your plate?" South sighed at him.  
"Nah… I was just thinkin'… I'm getting older. I need to settle down." He sighed and leaned on his bagel. Prussian wasn't even old, or even very lonely, but eventually he would be both of those things, and he was pretty sure that human-pigeon-incest was one of those snowflake things that South himself had inherited. No offence to Ludwig, of course. Wait, why was Prussian even jumping to Ludwig as a conclusion anyway, all he had to do was get on the market.  
South jumped to a conclusion as well: "Well, why are you asking me! Those bagels are cutting off the blood from your brain, no way would I settle down with you and your constant supply of food and giant wings."  
Giant? Prussian stood up and stretched one out, going around South's shoulder like a human would do to another human. South stretched his own wings and fluttered at Prussian. "Don't touch me, Patchy."  
"Hey, I said not to tease me about that, I fought a dog. You're lucky I was good enough to only have to give it an eye. Imagine if I lost a foot and you had to take care of me like Cher Ami. I defeated a dog, you have to respect me."  
"Stop peacocking at me, put your ego away. You already have Gilbird to settle with anyway!"  
"That's why I brought it up. I don't think I… Gilbird is cute, I mean, and he's awfully soft. But all he ever says is peep."  
Birds only say like seven words. Peep is the feeling word. It could say opinions and empty things like _That's why I brought it up,_ and_ You're nice, East, but_ and _Nice to see you. That's why I brought it up. Anyway. You're lucky. I love you. Good day. I hate locals. I agree. Go away. Spirit-brother. Thank-you. You never..._ Peep can get you pretty far, but not all the way. A 'heh-heh' can get you pretty far, but not all the way.  
"You never connect with pigeons." Said South, sounding like he didn't believe all someone could say was peep.  
"I connect with you."  
"You never connect romantically."  
"There's just so many jocky pigeons everywhere." Prussian wanted somebody cute and chatty. Not strong and silent; nor soft and silent; nor tall, squishy, and human.  
"Really? Where are they?"  
"There're ugly ones on Filmore, there're boring ones in Canary Row, and then there's you, grouch." Cooed Prussian, his R sounds getting caught in his throat like he was purring.  
"Whatever. What are you gonna do, loverboy?"  
"I could leave the city."  
"You mean move to the beach with Ivan." South flew to the balcony and looked out at the ocean, and Prussia followed, leaving his bagel on the floor.  
"Hell no, I mean move south." They leaned and looked out and down the coast. Except they were pigeons, so they couldn't lean far enough to see around the corner of the hotel, so they had to imagine.  
"Monterrey is so cold, though."  
"Hmm." Prussia looked over at the place where the sea touched the sky, and then down the street towards Ludwig's café. South followed his little eye down the street as well, grazing over it like he was looking for French's oatmeal cookie wife.  
"Oh fuck is that Antonio?"  
"_Wow,_ you're looking out the 10th story window and seeing Antonio. True love." Prussia squinted and couldn't hope to recognize the Spaniard or Bostonian or whatever accent or nationality the walkingman had when he spoke.  
"Yeah, that's how spirit-siblings work, dumbass."  
"I know! But jeez. Now you're gonna make me go down there and watch you try to coo at him. Yours doesn't even give you food."  
"I don't care about that, when I met him he gave me part of a cheap, disgusting, completely gross taco, and—"  
"It was love at first bite"  
"Shut up. And we looked at each other and we read each other's minds. Why the hell would you eat this? And now—"  
"Now whenever he notices you he sings to you."  
"Like a crazy person!"  
"I bet he sings to every pigeon he sees."  
"No way. I bet you a whole slice of grease pizza that he won't sing to you if you caught him before me."  
"You're on, loverboy."  
They left Prussian's plain bagel on the floor of room 1128 and flew over to where Antonio was walking, wherever the human was going with his mysterious bouncy ways, every morning at the same time in the same sort of suit and fancy sunglasses.  
"Start planning your 'starving pizzaboy' act, South, here I go." Said Prussian, running through the pedestrians on the side walk and hopping on top of bush.  
"Coo, coo. Tony! Coo!"  
"Huh? Oh… hi there." Antonio looked at Prussian for a moment with a little smile.  
"Hey, wait. Coo." Prussia hopped off the bush and sighed. "Damn…"  
"Haha, pizzaboy. Watch me." South flew way across the street to make it look like he and Prussian weren't having a bet at all, then then appeared on the corner by chance, bobbing his head and going somewhere specifically, almost getting under his spirit-brother's feet.  
"Hey, look at you!" Said Antonio, stopping.  
"Coo…"  
"Pigeon pigeon pigeon. Pigeon piiiigeon." Sang Antonio. He had a busy life walking around couldn't think of very good lyrics. Or maybe it was that language gap for pigeons, but Lovino really, really appreciated being sung to. He grinned at South, and then stepped over him and went on this way. South flew back to Prussian.  
"Well—Well, mine talks to me." Said Prussian while South looked him with smug orange eyes.  
"That's cuz yours is a captive audience. And he never goes anywhere at all, I think. Mine is a free spirit who likes walking around, I bet he knows Cisco like he knows how to read letters."  
"Oh, reading, how deep and romantic coocoocoo." Said Prussian.  
"Whatever. Did you see his shiny-black-eye-shield-things? I've always wanted to wear a pair of those."  
"I think they might make people see more colors."  
"It would be kinda nice being a human-being." Muttered South, taking a long time picking a language to say it in. Perhaps he was having his own manly crisis.  
"Hm. Maybe. We'd probably have more food."  
"And two-sided conversations with people."  
"With Antonio."  
"And everyone else!" said South defensively.  
"Sure, bro."  
"Shut up. Let's go get your bagel before Ivan comes and squishes you."  
They flew off. Prussian wondered about being human, he thought it would be pretty awesome. The least he could do was ask someone for pizza to make good on his bet. The most he could do was go teach Ludwig a lesson about kicking customers out, and he would have to understand him this time.


	4. Lunch Break Will Be Coming Soon

South parted ways from him after he took him up to his bagel, and the Prussian was left to procrastinate on Ivan again. He kissed his bagel for good look to make it sit there for another fifteen minutes with the snoring tourists. He flew into another open window, just for fun.  
"No really Grandpa, I have to go. I have a meeting on the other side of town and I don't know all about the good ways and bad ways to go yet. I can't be too late."  
A man in a suit with auburn hair and squinty eyes paced around the room in a pair of socks that had bowtie pasta stitched into them, speaking Italian with his head tilted into a cell phone and eating Cheetos like carbs were his escape from stress. Prussian cooed at him. He was gorgeous.  
"Thank you, Grandpa! Love you too. I'll call you later. Okay. Bye." The Italian hung up and Prussian looked around silently. Bag of Cheetos, comic book, fax addressed to Feliciano Vargas, bag of Cheetos, cute nose, bag of Cheetos. Prussian cooed again, and Mr. Vargas looked at him with soft eyes.  
"Oh, hello there, Mr. Pigeon."  
"Hello." Said Prussian, a little intimidated by how adorable Mr. Vargas's voice was.  
"Are you hungry?"  
"I'm always hungry." He laughed and twitched.  
"Have some, they're good." Feliciano held out a Cheeto.  
Oh, glorious kindness. Mr. Vargas had just been pacing with worry and now he was sitting on the ground and feeding Prussian, just relaxing with his new friend and sharing a good snack.  
"I've got a meeting; I should already be in a cab or at a crosswalk. But, if I'm already late, why not just enjoy it, huh?"  
"I agree completely. I hate seeing humans rushing around; it makes me feel bad for them. How do you even know when you have to hurry?"  
"It's okay. They won't be mad unless I do it habitually."  
"No offence, Mr. Vargas, but you look like you might actually do it that way…"  
Feliciano sighed. "I better be going." He took the bag, licked the orange off his fingers, and started to leave.  
"Wait! Sorry, that was a shitty thing to say! I don't even know you, but the way you were pacing around… I'm sorry. Please don't just leave. I think I love you!" Prussian's tiny feet couldn't carry him fast enough, his head couldn't bob fast enough, and the door shut.  
"You forgot your shoes! Feliciano, please." Prussian sat down and rested his chin on his chest, the pigeon equivalent of lying on the cold hard floor, his neck was too tired to support his wee head, Feliciano'd taken his muscle-juice. "Please come back. Tell me what the meeting is for… Tell me about your grandpa and family… Tell me about your favorite food… Were you born in Italia, or America?"  
Prussian waited until Mr. Vargas came back for his shoes, sitting in one of them. When he returned, he wasn't as happy to see that Prussian had warmed up his sole as the little pigeon hoped. Prussian jumped out of the shoe.  
"Woah, Mr. Pigeon. Could you please not do that? Do you have germs or rabies? Oh, Mr. Pigeon, don't tell me you left me a present in my shoe… Thank goodness, no."  
"Sorry, didn't mean to impose. I'm not gonna promise I have all my shots, because I'm a street kid, but… I can promise I'm very clean and smell like Boudin. Everybody likes Boudin, right?"  
The door shut again. Prussian felt the pulse of loneliness as his crush left him alone in the hotel. He went back to his bagel and sat quietly while the people in the bed argued, with his belief that humans were cute but cruel rekindled.  
"Hmm... Hey..."  
"Morning." A pale arm rose into the air as she yawned and wrapped her badmate in a hug. "Come here." And with a squeak, their lips met.  
"Where are we?"  
"This is our stake-out, pretty sweet huh."  
The girl with the softer voice giggled with nothing more than a little sigh, and Prussian started to feel more like a voyeur than a spy when they kissed again and he saw the blankets raise over a curve as the women rearranged in their wakefulness. "No. This is an expensive hotel room, Melia."  
"Oh, yeah." Amelia yawned. "We'll move to the lobby at check out."  
"And when's that?"  
"A couple hours..."  
"Great - a nap."  
"What, really?"  
Prussian giggled to himself to hear loud Canadian sounding snores from the quiet one, and then he flibbled around the city. He still owed South a pizza, but he could worry about that later. Or maybe not.  
"South…" he cooed circling back to the stake-out room and picking at the bagel to keep himself awake as he waited  
"I'm in San José, what do you want?" the wind cooed back. San José was, of course, the place where a pigeon could meet a shark, or the sort of person who wasn't really a tourist but they certainly didn't sleep in the Shark Tank - but they were known to have season passes and hotdogs. Being there just for a trip around the block was pleasant as well - it was bluer there than here.  
"Manly crisis…"  
"Dammit, again?"  
While Prussian was waiting, he sat on Ivan's bagel and wrote a quick entry into his Napkin Memoirs : Real Pigeon Life in some sort of ugly thumbless chickenscratch.  
Prussian shortened South's flight by heading in his direction, leaving the bagel once again as the morning got late and two began to bicker about life, but fuck Ivan, the sisters could have the bagel if they wanted it. Prussian caught South on a telephone wire with a pair of shoes hanging on it.  
"What. What!" South seemed bothered by the flight.  
"You didn't have to come, you know."  
"I did. You would have me given so much shit. _South how could you leave me all alone during my crisis boohoocoo_? Where's my pizza?"  
"On its way."  
South started preening his chest.  
"Well, if you're lonely without Antonio, and I'm lonely with Gilbird, what if we…"  
"Well, hmhrmrhmrhmhhh." Said South. "Talk normal, East."  
"What if we were human."  
The wire buzzed a bit, but that was all the noise around except a drunken dove on an apartment balcony. South looked at him, sighed, nodded, twitched. Prussian got scared.  
"You actually do listen to me. I'm a bad influence… Uh, sure. Why not. You seem hopeless, though, East. You okay?"  
"Yeah." Cheeto Guy. Prussian could… do human things with him and convince him that he wasn't just a pigeon. Prussian could be with him. "A change of pace!"  
"I don't think Mother would let us have an experiment. All or nothing."  
"Uh-huh."  
"I'm good with it." South continued. "I could roll with a punch. I could drive a car."  
"You could not drive a car. You'd go way too fast and run over a couple hundred tourists."  
"I would. It would be good for the city. ...We couldn't talk to other pigeons afterward."  
"Of course we could! We could even feed them. I know the first thing I do for a pigeon is to give French a box of oatmeals."  
"Hmm. Well. What else would you do?"  
"Well, I met this guy…"  
"Don't do it just for a guy you met an hour ago! Do it for yourself."  
"Okay, okay. I wanna wear clothes."  
"And a pair of shiny-black-face-thingies."  
"Yeah."  
"And a smoke-stick."  
"I don't think that's healthy."  
"It wouldn't be healthy in general to be human."  
"Why are you arguing so much, you've been in love with Antonio for a whole three months or a year or something. That's like, a sixth of your life on him!"  
"I'm just worried. What happens after we get married? What if humans have it worse than pigeons?"  
"How could they? They've got thumbs and anime!"  
"Good point, let's fucking go."  
They were pretty excited about it, after all. They wheeled through the sky, laughing like the dove was from her perch, and chasing each other.

* * *

Pigeon Mother did not live in the sewers, rather, She was at the center of down-town. She could be reached through the sewers though, and there were very few rats there. Prussian and South walked quickly, their heads bobbing seriously, both sensing this was a decision no pigeon should ever have to make, like what to eat for breakfast but ten times as bad. Prussian still had a news clipping from Ivan to read, still was hoping the stake-out sisters would eat his bagel, and here he was jumping into something with his best bro. That justified it. Being bros. (Not Ludwig.)

"Children." Greeted Pigeon Mother once they neared her chamber of blue tile. It was aquamarine, and it reflected the dark cave and made it a dim blue, and it reflected Pigeon Mother's eyes, which created light in a divine fashion. With that fact in mind, the sponge feeling under Prussian's toes was probably small plants—it was damp here like the tiles were water, not just dyed to look like it, and Mother was the sun with her eyes. She must eat the plants that She catalyzes, unless She is self-sustaining. A truly godly fate for a being who gave birth to a race, and still does. Prussian wondered if he would get to see a newly emerging pigeon while he was here. It wasn't a rare sight if one was in the right place.  
A note from the translator of the Napkin Memoirs used to create this - Pigeon Mother is really creepy, Her eyes are so creepy, but the pigeons don't notice it, being loyal children. She is a creepy giant fat sedentary balding aged pale hidden pigeon that lays eggs and doesn't have pupils. I've done my research.  
"Mother." They said.  
"It's so nice to see you, my dears." There was no proof in Her eyes that Pigeon Mother could see, but She said in Her loving raspy voice that She could see them, and so it was.  
"You too."  
"How's your goals been?" She spoke to them vaguely because she had so many children and she'd named them all George and Georgina so they would all weigh the same in her eyes. Unfortunately it was the weight that distinguishes one pigeon from the next, it seemed common for things that were bigger than pigeons to have prosopagnosia against them, but Ludwig and Antonio were sensitive to a pigeon's weight.  
"Fine."  
"Mine too."  
"Hmm? You don't seem very sure about it. Something the matter, sweetpies? You know you can ask me anything."  
Prussian wanted to ask about what South had said about making connections with pigeons.  
"Well…" said South. He then lost his train of thought. It is hard to speak with your Maker while mortal. Oh fuck, were there pansexual ghosts in here talking with Mother about the weather? How creepy.  
"Don't be shy, now."  
South wanted to talk about Antonio, but maybe he was having second thoughts. Asking Mother to change his species like he wasn't happy with how she made him? Wanting to love a human? Prussian felt more guilty than South, only being in love for a few hours and being unable to remember Feliciano's name at the moment.  
"Honey," she prompted.  
"We were wondering if you would make us human…"  
She twitched. "Human? May I ask why?"  
"Love." They both said.  
She clucked. "Of course. Alright, take my blessing and when you see the sunlight next, you'll be human."  
Prussian nodded. "Thank-you so much Mother, you're the best."  
"Yes, thank-you Mother."  
They started making their way out.  
"Wait, honey, would you like me to patch your poor eye?"  
"No thank-you." Of course it wouldn't be as easy as one question, it would be this.  
"Oh? Why not? Come here and let me mend you." One kiss and all of Prussian's glory would be gone.  
"Mother, it's my battle scar."  
South started to walk again.  
"George, you come over here."  
"Please, Mother."  
From under Pigeon Mother, a head poked out, then a pigeon body followed the pigeon head, and everything else a pigeon had all stepped out from the incubating down. It was an adult pigeon, who'd perhaps been laid a certain while in the past, some time-Prussian couldn't remember how long it took for pigeons to mature, he'd spent that time being babysat.  
The pigeon nodded at them and stood around like a neophyte who didn't know what living was.  
"George, would you take him out with you?" said the Pigeon Mother, apparently forgetting Her quest to take Prussian's identity away from him.  
South had already scattered off, afraid to see Prussian lose in a fight with Mother, so Prussian took George with him.  
George needed a name, he wouldn't last long introducing himself as George. Prussian almost laughed just thinking about it.  
"Ha, what's your name, kid?"  
"Lefty."  
"Hmm." Said Prussian. Since when did they walk out of Mother knowing their nickname? "You know, when I was little we—"  
"Don't care." Said Lefty, scattering faster.  
There was another jocky pigeon heading to Filmore street. Here was another cool pigeon about to enjoy his first human sunlight.


End file.
